Chapter 19 #2
“Something else we can agree on,” Marianne said as they lined up to dance the waltz. “I must confess, over the last few weeks, I have forgotten that the reason we came to this agreement is that there was so much we see eye to eye on. Such as our dislike for functions such as this.”
“Indeed.” Lucien nodded his agreement. “And I will say that I am pleased we have made the arrangement we have, even though it has been difficult at times, and even though I, in my desire to help you unlearn some of your stiffness, made things more complicated.”
“We both have, but I am glad that we are in agreement now,” Marianne said, just as the music started. Lucien led her out onto the dance floor.
“I will remind you about my inability to dance,” she said.
“And I will remind you that I shall not so much as flinch if you step on my toes,” he replied.
“Is that a promise?” she asked as he pulled her forward so that his cheek lightly grazed hers.
“It is a promise indeed,” he said, and just as his cheek brushed lightly against her warm skin, a surge ran through him, and his heart gave a little leap.
Immediately, he knew that this was a mistake.
He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have gotten so close to her.
He shouldn’t be dancing with her, but he couldn’t help it. It was too late now.
The music started, and immediately it carried him away. Marianne had warned him that she was not a good dancer, but he could tell that that wasn’t so. It was her perception of herself, he realized, which was often not correct. She thought little of herself, and he had to wonder why that was.
He knew that her father was known to have always only looked at his daughters as vehicles to advance himself. And yet her sisters seemed to have come out of their home with their confidence entirely intact. The same wasn’t true for Marianne, however.
Lucien wished he could see her father and tell him that he had been a fool not to value his daughters more, especially his youngest one. But death had claimed the man already, and there was nothing he could do about it now.
“You look thoughtful,” she said.
“I am. I was thinking of your father.”
“My father?” she said, her eyebrows shooting up as they twirled. “What in the world makes you think of my father?”
“Some things that you have said. You told me that you find yourself thinking about him more since coming to live with us.”
“I do,” Marianne replied thoughtfully. “Indeed, I do. It is because I find myself comparing you to him. The way he was as a father and the way you are. I do wish he had been a little more attentive to us, valued us more, the way you value your son. I cannot imagine that somebody would not value their child. And yet I have experienced it.”
He, too, had experienced it. His father had seen him mostly as an heir, but worse, Arabella had seen Henry as an obligation.
“I think Henry to me is the center of my life. He is my mission. He is what I was meant to be. I know I am an Earl and I have responsibility and I am a landlord and all these other things, but I think primarily I am a father.”
She pondered this, and then bit her lips so that the shimmer remained on them.
“But what about when he grows older? What about when Henry is old enough to live on his own or when he takes a wife?”
Lucien paused, for he hadn’t thought about that.
His days for the last four years had been filled with nothing but his son and, of course, his responsibilities.
But he hadn’t really thought about what the future would hold.
In another fourteen or fifteen years, Henry would be old enough to go to balls on his own and find himself a wife.
Hopefully, one that he truly loved. But what of him?
How would he fill his days? The picture that sprang up before him of the future was a grim one. He would be alone.
Of course, he was certain that Henry would still want him, would still need him. He would see his son often. And with God’s grace, his daughter-in-law would be fond of him. Perhaps they would all live in the same home, and he could help raise his grandchildren.
“You look as though you have seen a ghost,” she said.
“Not a ghost. It is just that I had never thought of it. But what of you? If you do not wish to be married and have children of your own, will your future look like endless adventures around the planet?”
“Perhaps,” she said. “I am not certain. I suppose I haven’t thought of it either. As I said, I only ever thought of ways to free myself from my father’s grasp and then later my aunt’s. I wish to travel with Juliet. But I do not know what to do after. It is terrifying, is it not?”
“Like a blank void,” he agreed. “One that we are stumbling toward with ever-increasing speed, day by day.”
She grimaced. “You can be quite morbid, you know.”
“Is it morbid? It is you who brought up the fact that I have no future beyond being my son’s father.”
“I never said that,” Marianne protested. “I only wondered what you thought your future would be beyond being somebody’s father.”
“I know,” he replied. “I suppose it is just that I do not know the answer. That makes it rather terrifying.”
“But you have so many options. You are very popular with the tenants. Mrs. Greaves told me. The servants care for you. You could do anything. Perhaps you could go and participate in Parliament more often and join the Lions with Rhys and Nathaniel. Help destitute boys or some such thing.”
“Have you considered this?” he asked curiously.
“Joining Parliament?” she said, and stuck out her tongue a little. “I have, but they turned me down. So rude of them, truly.”
He chuckled at her jest. “I meant philanthropy. Perhaps there are other young girls who would like to explore as much as you do.”
She pondered this. “Perhaps. There actually must be other girls who are aimless.”
“I would not say that you are aimless,” Lucien contradicted her. “Your aim was very clear. You did not wish to be your father’s or your aunt’s puppet. Perhaps there is something in that. Perhaps you can free other young girls from the same troubles.”
“I suppose maybe I could,” she said. Then she glanced around the room before looking up at him. “You know, I dare say our venture is working. People are looking at us with a lot of interest.”
“I can see that,” he said, noting that a lot of pairs of eyes were on them at this very moment. “I suppose they mistake animated conversation for something more.”
“Do they mistake it?” she said. There was a double meaning to her words; he knew it. She was wondering if there was something more between them, and he had to admit there was. He didn’t want it to be, but there was.
“People will see whatever they wish,” Lucien replied, making sure to keep his voice even. Too much. He had allowed far too much banter, far too much feeling between them. “It is an illusion we are projecting and one that they are believing.”
The smile that had been on her lips for some while dimmed and then faded entirely. “I see. Well, perhaps we are both made for the stage after all, then.”
“Indeed, it appears that way. Our evening has been thoroughly successful in that respect,” he said as the waltz ended.
“I imagine so.”
. They walked off the dance floor together, and then Lucien made an excuse to go and greet Rhys, who had just entered.
He needed to talk to his friend before Gideon found them, because once the two of them were together, there was not much else Lucien could do.
They would do what they always did when the three of them were together.
Drink until they could barely stand and then gossip like fishwives at Whites.
Marianne, meanwhile, walked towards where Charlotte and Evelyn were standing.
As Lucien looked after her, he saw her stop and glance back at him.
There was sorrow on her face, and he knew that he had put it there.
Instantly, he felt bad. He shouldn’t have done it.
He shouldn’t have allowed her to think that there was something more between them.
Was there? He knew that his feelings for her had grown.
But he hadn’t realized that she had feelings for him, too.
After all, she had been nearly as wary of him as he had been of her.
“You look as though you are carrying the weight of the entire world on your shoulders,” Rhys commented the moment Lucien joined him. “Until a few months ago, you looked as though you were running around light-footed and lighthearted.”
“What do you mean?” he said, even though he already knew.
“You have a lovely wife. Taking turns on the dance floor. Do not tell me that you and she do not truly have feelings for one another. She admires you as much as you admire her.”
“You are starting to sound like Gideon,” Lucien said, spitting the name.
“And Gideon is not wrong. I know that you dislike him, but he is the sort who will speak the truth whenever it presents itself before him without trying to soften it. So if he thinks that the two of you look as though you are in love, perhaps you look as though you are in love. I certainly think so.”
“I do not love her,” Lucien replied firmly. “She’s pleasant. But that is it. There is nothing between us.” The words came out more like a hiss than anything else.
Rhys raised his hands. “Very well, though you are protesting a lot, my lord.” He chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. “I know what you need. Good whiskey.”
Lucien sighed and followed his friend. Perhaps he was right. What he needed was a whiskey or five to take away these nagging thoughts that would not leave him alone.